“To pay them off.”

“I had to,” David said, his voice rising in defense.

“If I don’t pay the bank by the end of next month, they’re going to foreclose on my house.”

“Sarah and the kids will have nowhere to go.”

“And what about Mom?” Rachel demanded, her voice sharp with anger.

“She would have had to move into a tiny apartment, away from her friends, away from everything she knows.”

“She would have been fine,” David muttered, though he could not look at either of us.

“She could have come to live with me, or we could have found a small place.”

“You didn’t care about that,” Rachel said.

“You just wanted Dad’s money.”

“That’s not true!” David shouted, his fist slamming down on the counter.

A ceramic mug near the sink rattled against the tile.

“I loved Dad,” he said, his chest heaving.

“I wanted to keep his business alive.”

“I thought I could turn it around.”

“But you couldn’t,” I said gently.

I felt a strange numbness spreading through me.